


Old Friends

by ladyeternal



Series: Angelic Mates 'verse [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Sleeping Sam, Team Free Love, Timestamp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-17
Updated: 2014-06-17
Packaged: 2018-02-05 00:45:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1799290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyeternal/pseuds/ladyeternal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tomorrow will take care of tomorrow’s problems; old friends will still need old friends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Old Friends

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers: If you’ve watched all of Season Five, none.
> 
> Disclaimer: If I owned Supernatural, certain events would NEVER have happened and there would be unabashed pr0n. I'm only playing with this world for my own amusement and the free entertainment of others.
> 
> Feedback is adored, so if you like the fic, please comment! And the more details the better; I love knowing what people like about my work.
> 
> This story is a timestamp that takes place between Chapters Three and Four of [Belonging](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1799230): Gabriel wasn’t with Sam when Sam woke up. This is why. Also, if one month on Earth equals ten years in Hell, pursuant to Dean’s revelation in episode 4x10, that works out to approximately three days on Earth equaling one year in Hell.
> 
> Beta’d by the magnificent [**morganoconner**](http://archiveofourown/users/morganoconner). ♥
> 
> Music: [We Weren’t Born To Follow – Bon Jovi](http://lyrics.wikia.com/Bon_Jovi:We_Weren%27t_Born_To_Follow)  
> [Fait Accompli – KMFDM](http://lyrics.wikia.com/KMFDM:Fait_Accompli)

~ooooOOOoooo~

He felt them long before he saw them. Was amazed it had taken as long as it had for them to arrive. His grace’s reaction to mating with Sam should have rung through Heaven like the bells of a cathedral. Only centuries of practice at shielding his grace had kept the armies of Heaven and Hell off their backs. But he’d trained these particular two well, over the millennia they’d spent together, and their loyalty to him was beyond question.

Reluctantly, Gabriel untangled from the warm, pleasantly musky body of his mate. Sam made a quiet, murmuring noise of discontent, but remained asleep.

His. This glorious human… luminous enough to house the Morningstar… was his. Had given himself, body and soul, into the care of an archangel that had abandoned his post, his brothers. Lucifer, for all that he had rebelled, had only left because he’d been forced away. Gabriel didn’t deserve to have someone like Sam… and that didn’t even touch on everything Gabriel had done to both Sam and Dean that Sam had every right to resent him for.

But Sam didn’t. He understood, and he forgave: an act of compassion that Gabriel would never have anticipated. Could barely believe Sam thought he deserved.

Bending low, Gabriel brushed a tender kiss to Sam’s cheek. Another murmur, and his hunter flattened himself into the warm space Gabriel had vacated, nestling into the scent of sex and lilies and stardust that Gabriel left behind. Gabriel permitted himself one long bask in the sight of his well-pleasured mate, and then he snapped himself outside.

They were waiting for him, side by side. Abariel was ivory-fair, with shoulder-length blue-black hair and eyes the shade of periwinkles in moonlight. He wore a long Grecian-style tunic of a nearly identical shade, with Enochian sigils embroidered at the edges in white-gold. Calm radiated from him, balancing the more aggressive aura of his partner.

Gamaliel stood half a head taller than Abariel, who was himself a head taller than Gabriel. Hair the color of sunset fire spilled in thick waves down his back, almost to his waist, and eyes as green as an Irish moor glinted ferocity; even now, tempered by radiant joy at seeing Gabriel again after so many centuries, there was a fierce protectiveness of the gentler Abariel that radiated from him like rays of piercing starlight. His burnished gold armor and vambraces reflected the dim pre-dawn light, his hands resting on the jeweled hilts of the twin daggers belted at his waist more from habit than anticipation of a fight.

“Mal… Abbi…” Gabriel’s voice wavered, a thousand emotions crowding him. These seraphim had flown beneath his wings for uncounted aeons, had fought with him in battles no Bard had ever committed to song. Gamaliel had been by his side at the judgment of the Nephilim, and Abariel’s presence had soothed Mary during her long hours laboring to bear the Son of God. They and they alone had been advised of his leaving, and he had missed them more than he could express.

These two were his best friends.

“Gabriel.” Abariel’s voice was the liquid song of an ocean tide as he crossed the short distance between them, embracing the archangel in a fierce fold of arms and cormorant wings. “We’ve missed you so much.”

“Missed you, too.” Gabriel hugged him back, once again stealing a moment of nearly forbidden joy at the feel of another angel’s grace touching his own… especially the graces of this pair, who were more welcome than any of his other brothers anymore. “How’d you spot me?”

“You mated the Morningstar’s true vessel,” Gamaliel observed, a sardonic tinge to his voice as he came forward for a hug of his own. “You told us to watch for a sign that you were getting involved again, but I wasn’t expecting something so… flamboyant.”

“It’s wonderful,” Abariel effused, dark eyes dancing. “You feel so much happier now than when you left.”

“I am.” It was strange to admit, but he was. Being Loki had been fun, but Gabriel had merely been hiding from more pain than he could bear. Being around Sam felt… warm. Peaceful. Like floating on warm air currents with his great wings spread wide.

“You have to let us meet him eventually,” Gamaliel advised. “Abbi hasn’t shut up about it since we felt the bond form.”

“You think he can’t see right through you?” Abariel challenged, his voice like a crashing wave. “Go ahead then: see if you can convince him that you didn’t beat me here, you were so eager to meet the boy.”

Gamaliel’s grace flickered guiltily and Gabriel’s laughter rang out like a bell. “He can still get you, Mal.”

“Nothing’s changed,” Mal replied. “At least on his side. _I_ smartened up and declared myself about seven hundred years ago.”

Gabriel’s eyes widened. “You’re-”

“Not yet.” Abariel’s smile was faintly melancholy, his eyes full as he glanced at Gamaliel. “Michael was even more suspicious when you left than you predicted. It was all I could do to convince Mal that it would have to wait.”

“Took him to Europa and everything,” Mal groused. “The view was spectacular.” Abariel reached out, brushing a hand down the closest of Mal’s bright red-gold wings. Mal sighed and took the slender ivory hand, turning it over as he brought it to his lips and kissing the upturned wrist. “Wish there was time to really catch up… act all human and double-date or something… but I doubt we’ll get the chance anytime soon.”

Gabriel sighed regretfully. “Honeymoon’s definitely being deferred until the apocalypse is put back in its Pandora’s box. You two up to flying under the radar for a while?”

Abariel’s eyes were bright, and Mal’s grin was vicious. “When aren’t we?”

The answering grin on Gabriel’s face was nearly demonic. “Good. Abbi, I want you to look up Aziraphale; he’s been down here so long, I doubt Michael even remembers he’s still alive, but he’s already prevented one apocalypse and he might be willing to help.”

“If he can tear himself away from his demon,” Mal grumbled.

“Behave, Mal,” Abbi admonished. “I’ve managed to suss out a few leads on Raguel as well. I’ll see about following them.”

“Good.” Gabriel nodded his approval. “My gut’s been telling me for months now that someone stuffed Rage in a hole. Dig him out if you can… quietly. Mal, any cherubim still loyal to me, I want guarding Castiel’s vessel’s family and Dean’s kid. The longer this lasts, the more desperate Zachariel’s going to get.”

“He’s become thoroughly insufferable,” Abariel complained. “He behaves as though no one can touch him. Raphael’s been consumed by despair; he’s given up on his true mission and turned his back on everything he was created to be. Uriel betrayed us… Anael was destroyed by Michael himself… the Host is infected with madness, Gabriel. The infighting among the lower orders is getting worse by the day.”

“Is Mary safe?” Gabriel asked, nervousness mounting. He’d considered telling her he was leaving as well; he’d grown rather attached to the brave slip of a girl who’d borne the Christ child… and the woman of unwavering strength she’d become: strong enough to believe in the Father’s plan even after watching her child being tortured to death in some of the most horrific ways imaginable. But unlike these two, she would have tried to convince him to stay.

It had taken all Gabriel’s strength to leave, and one sincere plea, one look in those soulful dark eyes, would have crumbled his resolve into nothing. And he would likely have done what Anael did, or worse, if he’d stayed any longer. At least this way, he had retained enough of himself to be of use, now that Fate had found a way to drag him back in again.

“We got her out before Christ vanished,” Mal advised with a nod. “She’s well hidden; Arianrhod and Mor-Ríoghain are watching over her now, and Athena and Vesta will be taking over soon.”

Amber eyes were lit, sudden and sure. If what Mal said was true… if he meant what Gabriel thought he meant… “You said you got her out before Christ vanished… like He and Dad didn’t leave at the same time.”

“They didn’t,” Abbi confirmed. “He left after Father did, and the Magdalene followed Him. We tried to convince her to go with Mary, or even to hide separately; Ishtar would still grant her priestess protection, no matter who her Celestial Husband is. But she refused to go, and wherever He is, she’s nearby. But they’re both even more cleverly hidden than Father is. We can’t sense them.”

“Which means He’s masking them.” Gabriel mulled that over for a moment. His Brother had always been clever, and He knew better than anyone what both Michael and Lucifer were capable of. Three human days in Hell… one year on Lucifer’s ground… Gabriel had never asked what happened between Lucifer and his Brother during that year, and Christ had never offered the information. He had gained the release of thousands of souls of the righteous before his Resurrection, souls trapped there for reasons much like what had happened with Dean and John Winchester, and that was as much as any angel knew. “Well… that’s something to think about later,” he huffed. “Right now, we’ve got other concerns.

“I want a head count on every immortal _not_ known to be aligned with Michael or Luci. Anybody disposed to help should be on standby. And keep an eye on Kali, Artemis, Freyja… even Isis. They’re not known for having moderate tempers and might be tempted to do something… precipitous.” The two seraphim exchanged a glance and Gabriel groaned involuntarily. “Who?”

“It’s just rumblings,” Mal cautioned. “Nothing concrete.”

“But Kali’s been talking to quite a few of the old gods,” Abbi continued. “We think she’s gathering a strike force.”

Gabriel began extemporizing at that point. In several different languages.

It might have gone on indefinitely, if Abariel hadn’t pushed a cloak of calming grace over his own, soothing the edges of his upset. The scent of morning glories filled his senses, and Gabriel couldn’t help thinking about making love to Sam in a forest glade, his mate’s long, lean body crushing the flowers beneath them and sending up clouds of perfume with every roll of those perfectly-tapered hips, skin glistening with dew and sunlight.

Mal grinned at him as the fantasy faded. “Besotted. Thoroughly besotted. He must be extraordinary, to have you in this state.”

Gabriel’s answering smile was vaguely beatific. “He is, Mal… you have no idea how brightly he burns… brighter even than the Morning Star…”

“Can we at least see him?” Abbi asked. “I know it’s early and he’s likely sleeping… but…”

Torn for a moment, feeling the hope coming from both of them, Gabriel finally nodded. He wanted to share Sam with them, even peripherally, and what he was asking them to do was dangerous. One or both could very well be killed long before ever meeting Sam in person. “You can’t wake him. He’s had a long day.”

His friends flying in his wake, Gabriel lighted into the bedroom of his hideaway where he’d taken Sam for the night. His mate was tucked into soft cotton sheets kept warm by his grace, walnut silk hair tousled and whisped across his peaceful face. Gabriel thought Sam looked more relaxed than he’d ever seen either Winchester, even before Armageddon’s shadows had begun gathering in earnest.

Abariel let out a soft gasp, seeing instantly what Gabriel saw: bright-burning soul, caged but undimmed by chains of darkness wrought by Destiny. Gamaliel stepped forward, watching Sam as if transfixed. Gently, he reached out, touching Sam’s forehead and whispering an Enochian benediction. Sam stirred briefly, and Gabriel sent him a rush of peace that quieted him into sleep again. “He’s…”

“Yes,” Gabriel acknowledged. There weren’t enough words in any language of man or God to encompass all that Sam was. All that Sam could be. The power that could be wielded by those large, impossibly gentle hands.

“You chose well,” Mal murmured, remaining near the bedside, eyes still trained on Sam.

Gabriel shook his head. “I chose love. Wisely done or not, it was the only thing to do.”

Weaving his hand into Gabriel’s, Abariel smiled softly. “Choosing love is never unwise, Gabriel.”

He was looking at Mal, saw the deep glow in his old friend’s grace caused by Abariel’s words. They were his oldest friends, in constant danger because of it, and clung even harder to the love they had found as a result. Abariel’s cormorant wings stretched and fluttered as he stepped forward, catching Mal’s hand to tug him back towards them. Mal’s red-gold wings folded back as he obeyed, taking Gabriel’s free hand.

Their graces slotted against his again, warm and welcome and familiar. Sam’s soul-fire flickered and danced within him, the bond between them stronger by the hour. His grace reached out to soothe away the shadows crossing Sam’s dreams, and the peaceful contentment… the _love_ that poured back from Sam took his breath away.

After centuries of pain and isolation, Gabriel began to feel hope again.

His seraphs were smiling, joy for him and with him resounding in their graces, in harmony once again with his own. There were cherubim to gather. Gods to warn. Angels to find. For the first time in far too long, Gabriel had a Message to deliver.

Michael and Lucifer weren’t ripping the world to pieces on his watch.

“Come on,” Gabriel said finally. “We’ve got work to do.”


End file.
